Glue Me Together Again
by MiaulinK
Summary: Jasmine Fenton obeys her own rules when it comes to her parents. The most important one is this: Don't get noticed. Getting noticed gets you hurt. Her brother didn't obey that rule, and he got hurt, badly. She doesn't know how to fix him now as her orderly world spins out of control around her. Sequel to Love Me, Love Me Not. Complete!
1. Quiet

**I own nothing!**

Chapter 1: Quiet

Jasmine Fenton sits as still as stone itself. Her mind plays reminders of all the tasks she needs to complete before she can go to bed. It's late, for her. She needs to complete all the tasks Danny left unfinished while he was at the hospital. She glances around the room, checking for even one stray pencil, one uneven set of items. Her bedspread isn't quite neat, so she goes back over it. It can't be anything less than straight. If it isn't straight, she'll be thinking about it until she returns to fix it. Why didn't she notice it this morning?

Everything else is in perfect order. Good. Not even Mom and Dad can find fault with this. She walks down the steps quietly, wondering where everyone is. As she glances into the kitchen, she realizes why. Dad sits as the table, silently going over problems. Mom isn't there. It takes a moment for Jazzy to gather up the courage to enter. When she does, she moves as silently as a shadow. She is careful to follow her own guidelines: don't be loud, don't be noticed. Don't do anything wrong. If possible, don't speak. Don't even show much emotion. She never really knows what will upset them, but unlike Danny, she tries to keep them happy. It's better-no, safer that way. Danny is the one who gets slapped since he doesn't follow the rules she's tried so hard to teach him.

Jazzy settles down at the counter, at the edge of Dad's vision. Too far away and he'll think she's being "subversive", though she doesn't know what that means. Probably sneaky. If she sits too close, she risks being noticed. It's a fine balance she rests on, but one she's mastered, even at age seven. People say she's smart for her age. She thinks of it as just being more observant, more used to having to track people's moods constantly.

A small sandwich is easy to fix, so that's what she eats. She hears a distinct sound at the top of the stairs in another room. Mom's steps, light, quick, but angry. You can tell by the way she stomps a little. By how fast it is. A sharp sound that reaches her ears: skin against skin. A slap. It's Danny, she knows. They finally let him out. She sighs with relief. They've left him up there for a long time. She had been contemplating asking them to release him.

She listens closely, but no conversation follows the slap. Only the sound of feet treading down the steps. Her stomach tightens with apprehension. Is Danny alright? Finally, Mom turns the corner around the stairwell (Jazzy knows by the double squeak of the last step), and walks into the kitchen. Danny walks behind her, steps quiet. Dried tear stains streak his face, but no sniffs escape. His expression…for once, she can't read it. It isn't an open book for her anymore. She longs to know what exactly is wrong. He doesn't try to sit with his family, or with her. He sits in a corner of the room, until Mom calls him to the table. It's then that Mom notices Jazzy, and orders her to come.

An awkward silence settles. Nobody talks. Finally, Mom clears her throat, and takes the sheet of calculations that Dad has been working on away from him. Dad glances up and says, "Maddie told me you had something to tell me?" This, Jazzy recognizes, is one of his traps. Mom never said anything about Danny having to say something to them. Dad's tone is dangerous. The question isn't a question, it's a statement. She hopes Danny doesn't fall for the trap.

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry I pulled your attention away from your experiments." His tone is off, but he doesn't fall into the trap. She lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Your apology is accepted." Mom is the one who says this, after a brief eye-conversation with Dad. Another cause for relief. Danny isn't in trouble yet. The tension is broken as conversation begins to flow between Mom and Dad, discussing his calculations. From what Jazzy gathers, it's a hobby, making calculations about how to make a portal to a supposed Ghost Zone. They act as though ghosts actually exist. It's silly, but Jazzy can't point it out. Maybe one day, when she's big, she can say things like that. She'll be able to say what she thinks.

Jazzy notices Danny is avoiding looking at her. He picks at his food, barely eating. Their parents finally leave, and Danny finishes his food, only to dart up the stairs the moment she tries to start a conversation. She bites down the sour feeling in her heart, eating at her like acid. She doesn't know what to do anymore about the orderly world she's established in the middle of chaos that's crumbling around her.

 **Chapter one of the sequel! Please remember to write a review! Does Jazzy sound okay? I haven't really done much Jazz POV writing, especially at such a young age. This entire story will mostly be in Jazz POV. It seems to fit the story better here, like Danny POV in** _ **Love Me, Love Me Not**_ **.**

 **-MiaulinK**


	2. Refusal

**I own nothing!**

 _Their parents finally leave, and Danny finishes his food, only to dart up the stairs the moment she tries to start a conversation. She bites down the sour feeling in her heart, eating at her like acid. She doesn't know what to do anymore about the orderly world she's established in the middle of chaos that's crumbling around her._

Chapter 2: Refusal

Jazzy arrives at school the next morning, carefully clothed. She had checked the clothes pile that morning and found a pleasant surprise. Her parents had actually managed to rouse themselves enough to wash a few sets of clothes while Danny was at the hospital, so she was able to collect enough clothes for both her and Danny to have something to wear today. She prefers tidiness, or so the adults say. Then again, it's true. If she can keep herself tidy, if she can keep her world clean, nobody can hurt her. She just needs to have it under control.

She doesn't always understand adults, but she can see why they like things to be clean. She wonders what their parents say if they don't keep things clean, or if they punish themselves. She knows Mom and Dad don't, but then again, Danny and she keep most of their messes from growing out of control. Maybe if they stopped, their grandparents would give Mom and Dad punishments, too.

The moment she steps into her first class, arithmetic, she can feel the looks. They burn on her neck like fire. Judging gazes, because she's late. She's late by a whole minute and fifteen seconds; a quick glance at the clock tells her that. Her stomach churns. Late. She hates being late. She wants to turn back the clock and reenter. She gulps, and bites her lip. Will she be punished? Will she be sent to detention? Expelled?

Her thoughts are broken as the teacher says, "Jasmine Fenton, as this is the first time you've been late this year, you will be excused." The teacher's words are a little sharp, but she is a teacher's pet. She won't get detention. She slumps against her desk's top in relief. Her parents won't hear of it, unless she does it again. The teacher clears his throat and continues on with the lesson he was delivering. She listens closely: she needs good grades. She has to get them.

She makes a B on a pop quiz her history teacher gives her. Once again, she panics. She's sent to the school nurse, who tells her there's nothing wrong with her, just anxiety. It's the truth, but it doesn't feel like it. She dreads coming home with that B. It lurks on the edge of her mind all day, so that by the time school is finished, she's a nervous wreck. What will she tell Mom and Dad? Will they yell at her? She knows she isn't the primary target for things like this, but she still fears them. A thought hits her as she looks at her paper on the bus ride back. She doesn't have to show them. The glaring B affirms her decision, and she sprints to a trashcan when the bus stops, shreds the pop quiz, and throws it in. She won't let them see it.

Jazz walks in the door, careful to avoid letting the hinges squeak, and tiptoes up the stairs. She settles on her bed and completes her homework. Page after page she memorizes, anxious. Somehow, she's got to keep that history pop quiz from showing up in her grade. She checks, double-checks, and triple-checks. Everything appears to be in order, and she can walk back down the stairs for a snack. She cuts up an apple and eats it quickly, before checking the refrigerator for possible suppers. Nothing. It'll be another mostly-hungry day. The only food is in the cabinets and atop the counters. Why haven't Mom and Dad gotten more food? There's a box of cereal and the apples. The cereal is old and rotting. The apples are filled with bruises and starting to rot. The apples look like the best choice. What she wouldn't give for a school lunch.

She decides to try to help Danny. She cuts up all of the apples, and dips them in fruit fresh. Between all of the apples there's enough for two meals. Three if they don't eat much. She guesses that Mom and Dad are eating out. After she puts the apples in the refrigerator, she scurries back up the steps and begins work on her chores. She has just enough time to complete the dusting and vacuuming before supper.

She grabs the plate of apples and takes them up to Danny's room, where she knocks on the door. No answer. She knocks again. Again no answer. Remembering the terror of a few days ago when he'd taken those pills, she rapped against the door and called, "Danny, I cut up some apples. Do you want some?"

"Go away." The voice doesn't sound like her brother, but she knows it's him.

"No. You need to eat." She is stubborn. She plants her hand against the door. "Let me in."

"No. I don't want you." His tone is wobbly. She guesses he's been crying.

"Then who do you want?" She enquires.

"A mommy. A real mommy." Again she can hear the tears in his voice.

"We don't have a real mommy. I need you to eat. Please?" She can only remind him of the solid facts. She doesn't know what else to say to him. "Please…can you come out?" Her voice is the one that becomes wobbly and thin now, like it might break. She fights back the tears. She needs her little brother back.

"No. I won't come out. Go! I hate you!" He screeches the last part, and it feels like someone shooting her in the heart. She squeezes her eyes shut. She pretends she isn't about to cry. She retreats down the stairs and doesn't eat the apples. She doesn't feel like it anymore. She allows herself to cry after she retreats to her own room, but only then. She cries herself out and closes both eyes at last, drifting into an uneasy sleep.

 **Like it? Hate it? Review it, please! Does the conversation feel right to you? You can make suggestions, if you wish, though I may not use them. These suggestions would be for a story that would take place after this one! Thanks!**

 **-MiaulinK**


	3. Determined

**I own nothing! Sorry about the lateness of this update. I was having trouble finding inspiration for this chapter!**

 _She squeezes her eyes shut. She pretends she isn't about to cry. She retreats down the stairs and doesn't eat the apples. She doesn't feel like it anymore. She allows herself to cry after she retreats to her own room, but only then. She cries herself out and closes both eyes at last, drifting into an uneasy sleep._

Chapter 3: Determined

She will not give up, Jazzy decides as she wakens the following morning, prepares herself for school, and enters the bus. Her stomach growls softly, disturbing her thoughts. She has had no breakfast. She has no lunch money, either. Her parents didn't leave the money out today, and she doesn't want them in a bad mood because Danny is at home alone with them. She doesn't want him hurt.

She walks into school, listens to the whispers. It's a habit. She knows it's bad to eavesdrop, but it has kept her safe in the past. It helps her predict moods. She makes it to class early today, determined to avoid repeating yesterday. There will be only one more day of school this week, since it's Thursday. She wishes school would never end. If school never ended, she'd never have to go home.

Classes are still boring-something nearly everyone say, something she can sympathize with them on. She is better at listening, though, than they are. Her life with her parents has taught her to sit still and listen well. She doesn't take notes like she's heard older students have to. She can usually memorize almost everything her teachers say word-for-word. Danny is pretty good at that, too.

Jazzy takes another test and gets another A. Tomorrow there will be a history test, for which the pop quiz of the previous day was preparation. She studies hard. If she gets an A on this one, the grade won't show up on her report card. Hopefully. Since Danny was in the hospital, she'd made several Bs. Each B is a cause of panic. The report card will be sent home with her on this Friday. She focuses so hard that lunch arrives before she's ready.

Lunch is always the best part of the school day, when she brings money for it. She walks to her special table. Nobody sits there. It's just the way she likes it. She's heard about friends, and about what happens when they stop liking you. She's glad she doesn't have any, or at least that's what she tells herself. She hasn't got any money so she sits at her table and studies. Her stomach growls at the smells from the cafeteria's line. Spaghetti. She forces herself not to look up.

In 1776, on July 4, the Declaration of Independence was signed.

She tries to focus on the words in the book so hard that she doesn't see the teacher who bumps against her table. She just notices that the table jiggles, before returning to her study. Then, words interrupt her thoughts.

"Jasmine?"

Jazzy glances up, confused and anxious. Has she done something wrong? She notes who addresses her: her history teacher, Miss Walker. Her teacher wears a smile, but so does Daddy when he punishes them sometimes. It isn't a mean smile though, so Jazzy decides it's safe to respond. "Yes, ma'am?" Ever polite, her tone sometimes comes off almost icy.

"Where's your lunch?" Miss Walker is kind, and her stance expresses concern. Jazzy relaxes yet further, and offers a smile back. There's no indication of danger.

"I didn't bring any," she responds.

Her teacher sits beside her and says something Jazzy doesn't expect. "Did you eat anything for breakfast?" She opens her pocketbook as she says this.

"No, ma'am. I didn't wake up soon enough." Jazzy responds quietly, studying her hands with anxiety. She can't think of anything she did to get this much attention. She bites her lip, a nervous habit she's developed.

"Here," Miss Walker says, handing her a few dollars. Jazzy stares at the money, confused. "You can use this for lunch money."

"I shouldn't, ma'am. It's your money." She wants the money, and is already thinking of the food she could get, but tries to ignore the images of warm spaghetti out of her head.

"You need lunch if you want to make good grades, Jasmine. Besides, it's my gift to you for being such a good student." Her teacher smiles again, and forces Jazzy to hold the bills.

"A gift? But I didn't make a good grade yesterday," Jazzy responds. She hasn't done anything to deserve it, and she wonders if she has to do anything to keep the money.

"Yesterday doesn't matter, Jasmine. All people make mistakes. Besides, you're less loud in the classroom than several of your classmates."

Finally, Jazzy responds to the reassurance, and clamps her hands around the money. "Thank you, ma'am," she murmurs, and quietly leaves the table, casting a short glance over her shoulder as she anxiously moves towards the line of students waiting for food. It isn't a big line, since almost everyone's got their plates now.

She gets spaghetti, milk, salad, and bread. It smells delicious, and she feels guilty that Danny can't get any until he starts school. Then she finds herself worrying about how she'll make sure he gets food. She'll need to make sure he has money, and that he knows how to use it to get food. She wanders into a daze thinking about it. She manages to weave her way back to her table even while she thinks hard, before her teacher's laughter reaches her.

"I was wondering if you'd manage to stop before you hit the table," Miss Walker says, snorting at her confused expression. As Jazzy settles at the table, she adds, "That's a nice lunch. I always liked spaghetti."

"Do you want some?" Jazzy asks anxiously, chewing her lip again. She doesn't want to share, but if an adult says she has to, she will.

"Oh, no. I was just thinking that it looked good. I already had lunch," her teacher says.

"Oh." Jazzy doesn't say anything for a while. She just wants to eat so she'll be ready for her next class. Finally she says, "Thanks for the money. I was hungry."

"Don't worry. You look too thin, anyway. If you want to, you can come home with me and I'll give you some supper." Miss Walker extends an invitation.

"Why?" Jazzy's parents never just offer things.

"Remember that book series you told me you wanted to read? The Chronicles of Narnia? I checked at the library yesterday and they said they didn't have the first book, so I thought you might want to come home with me to read it. I'm afraid I can't let you borrow it, though. Remember the last book?"

Jazzy shivers. One of the books Miss Walker let her borrow got hit with an experiment, and was never the same again. Miss Walker said she didn't want any more of her books falling prey to various experiments. Amazingly, she wasn't punished. "Sure. I'd be happy to come," she says. "Can I bring my brother?"

"Yes, if your parents say so."

It's the end of their conversation, and Jazzy walks to her next class with a bounce in her step, happy to have a free, hot meal and to be able to bring her brother. They'll be full tonight. She won't ask her parents. They'd say no just because they can, and she won't let her brother go hungry today.

…

Jazzy makes it back home on the bus and darts up the stairs, where she does a little studying and writes a note for Danny. She hopes he likes notes better than her talking. The note reads:

Wont to come eet at my teachers house tonit? The food wil be good. I no there is not much food in the house so plese come eet. I wont talk to yu if yu do nott wont me too, oka? Say yes pleze!

-Jazzy

She crosses her fingers and pushes the paper through the crack at the bottom of the door. She waits a while beside the door, hoping for a response. Nothing comes. She sighs and stands up, going to change her clothes. She doesn't know what her teacher will say if she doesn't come. She wants to come, but a part of her whispers that she shouldn't, since Danny won't go.

She steels herself to leave and grabs a little tin foil while she prepares herself. She can bring food home to Danny, she decides. She can hear the car drive up outside, and she starts to walk back down the hall to fetch herself some shoes, but notices something.

A slip of white paper lies under Danny's door. She picks it up. It says:

Ys

D

In scrawling, sprawling writing that takes up most of the note paper on the back of her note. She smiles a little, and knocks on the door. Slowly, the knob turns and she manages a little smile as her brother exits his room. His hair is mussed badly, and she wonders how long it's been since he had it fixed. She pushes him back into his room with a little grin and sets to work, hoping Miss Walker has patience. A few combs and a change of clothes (and shoes) are all it takes to make him presentable.

Just as the doorbell rings loudly from the hallway, making the siblings cringe, they finish. They haven't said a word yet. She waits for permission, unsure about what to do. A sprint-for her, anyway-down the steps is all it takes to arrive before anyone else can. She knows that her parents aren't here again, but she still worries. They walk outside and settle into the car.

"Did your parents give you permission, Jasmine?" Miss Walker asks.

"Yes, ma'am." She hopes her teacher won't catch the lie.

"So this is your brother? It's good to meet you, Daniel." Miss Walker offers a light-up-the-world smile.

Danny says nothing, so Jazzy offers an excuse. "He isn't talking right now, Miss Walker. He doesn't want to. I made him angry." She twitches a little, but avoids saying more than necessary.

"I can understand that, Jasmine. I used to have something of a feud with my older brother and we didn't speak to each other. Are you alright? Outside of the classroom you may call me Ellie, if you wish. It's short for Eleanor." Her teacher's way of speaking is enough to put the siblings at ease instantly.

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you for offering to drive us to your house." Jazzy is careful to be polite, and her teacher clearly enjoys her manners.

Miss Walker turns on the radio and lets them listen to a cool music station with classical music. She encourages them to try to hum the tune and predict the next note. Danny still stays silent, but bounces lightly in his seat to the rhythm. Jazzy allows herself to hum, though. The freedom to make noise is fun, and she begs Miss Walker to not turn off the radio until they drive up in her yard.

The siblings slip out of the car and Jazzy feels a smidgen of joy as Danny clamps his hand tight around her own when they enter. The house is…different. Whereas FentonWorks has a cold, impersonal atmosphere, this house is filled with rugs and pictures. A smell drifts through the house, a smell identifiable as food.

They walk to the kitchen, Miss Walker talking about her previous classes with children. As they enter, the smell becomes stronger, and their stomachs growl. Danny edges behind Jazzy as though the smell is pulling him forward and he must hold on to something to avoid being dragged towards it. It takes a bit but Miss Walker prepares the siblings' plates, filling them with food that looks so good it makes their mouths water. There are beans, a slice of whole wheat bread, and an orange for each of them.

They focus on the food to the point that they stop talking altogether. The siblings are filled quickly. Years of being underfed much of the time have shrunken their stomachs. They even get chocolate, a rare delicacy around their house. All-in-all, they are left content. The meal loosens Danny's tongue and he talks. Not much, of course, but some. A thank-you and a few yums express his happiness. He falls asleep at the table, a faint smile Jazzy hasn't seen in ages settling across his face.

Finally, Miss Walker gets up and goes to fetch _The Magician's Nephew_. Jazzy follows her into the living room, where bookshelf upon bookshelf have what appear to be tons of books, to the point that some shelves bend a little under the weight. It takes a while for Miss Walker to locate the book, but she finally does. Jazzy settles in a chair and starts to read the book as Miss Walker continues to find books.

Miss Walker interrupts her reading with words. "To tell the truth, Jasmine, I didn't ask you to come here because I wanted you to read your book here."

The words startle Jazzy, who stares at her teacher. Her teacher who told her a lie.

"I really wanted you here as a surprise. At the end of this semester I'm getting married and going on a honeymoon. I won't go back to teaching for a while. I wanted to give you some things, since you're my best student." Jazzy glows with pride at those words. "Here! You can have the entire set."

A pile of books is set in front of Jazzy, who gapes at the titles. The book titles are _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_ ; _The Horse and his Boy_ ; _Prince Caspian_ ; _The Voyage of the Dawn Treader_ ; _The Silver Chair_ ; and _The Last Battle_. In combination with the book she has, _The Magician's Nephew_ , it makes the complete set of the Chronicles of Narnia. She gasps, turns around, and shows an unusual display of emotion. A hug. She buries her head in her teacher's blouse and says, "Thank you! Thank you so much! Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Just try not to destroy them, Jasmine." Arms surround her in a kind embrace and she relaxes completely. She doesn't cry, but she feels like it.

"Why do you have to go? You're my favorite teacher!"

"Because I want to, Jasmine. My husband and I can't teach more children when I have some, but maybe someday I'll come back and teach you again." Miss Walker pats Jazzy on the back, soothing her.

Finally they part, Jasmine feeling awkward. She never displays that much emotion for anyone except Danny. They walk back to the kitchen and Miss Walker picks up Danny, who doesn't stir at all. They go to Miss Walker's car and set off for FentonWorks. Jazzy decides she wants to grow up to be like Miss Walker.

She falls asleep on the ride back, and is woken with a slight shake that rips her out of sleep with terror, half-expecting to see one of her parents smirking as she struggles to her feet, but instead sees Miss Walker, who ushers her out of the car and takes Danny to her room. Jazzy curls up on the floor nearby and goes back to sleep, mind untroubled for now.

 **Like it? Hate it? Review it, please! How do you like Miss Walker? I didn't know how much dialogue to put in, so there really wasn't any Danny dialogue. He's still trying to not talk. The misspelling in the notes was intentional. I figure that even if Jazzy is a brilliant seven year old, she still won't be able to spell with absolute inerrancy. I know I couldn't, and I was only just beginning to read quickly. Danny's spelling is even worse than Jazzy's. Remember that you can suggest things! Once again, though, I may not use them.**

 **To** _ **Lexosaurus**_ **:** **I have no idea when detention starts being given as punishment. Do you know what sort of punishment was common at that age?**

 **To** _ **AwesomeAuthor13:**_ **It is unlikely that Vlad will adopt them because I usually consider him the villain in Danny Phantom stories. Thanks for the suggestion, though! I haven't written any Good!Vlad fics, though I do have one in which he fakes being good.**

 **-MiaulinK**


	4. Narnia

**I own nothing!**

 _She falls asleep on the ride back, and is woken with a slight shake that rips her out of sleep with terror, half-expecting to see one of her parents smirking as she struggles to her feet, but instead sees Miss Walker, who ushers her out of the car and takes Danny to her room. Jazzy curls up on the floor nearby and goes back to sleep, mind untroubled for now._

Chapter 4: Narnia

Jazzy makes it back from school today with a little card tucked deep inside her pockets. She climbs off the bus, casts an anxious look around, checking for signs of her parents, and sees nothing to indicate that they're home. A tiny sigh of relief passes her lips in a puff, butterflies' flittering inside her stomach calming. She shudders lightly at a cool breeze that passes over her skin, rushing through her thin jacket and shirt as if they were gauze. The weather has become oddly cold for the beginning of March. Then again, with March came fierce winds.

She pulls open the door with some effort, though the door tries to slam itself shut before she can fully pass, crushing her body between the heavy metal of the door and the door frame. She cries out but manages to pry the door open again, slipping through before another particularly powerful wind can blow through. She lands on the floor hard. Her ribs burn, and she runs her hand along her chest, wincing quietly at the pulsating, hot pain that spreads from the contact.

She stumbles up the steps, limping badly, using the banister for support. Dragging herself up the steps is difficult, painful, and almost not worth it. The world shifts dizzyingly around her several times, nearly sending her tumbling down the stairs. She finally makes it though, and stumbles into her room, tripping on air, and landing on the ground. She closes her eyes and rests.

A few minutes later she pushes herself to her feet and carefully takes off her clothes. Her arms ache as she manipulates her pants carefully over her legs and she struggles to take off her shirt. Finally it comes off, though, and she dries small tears of pain. She looks in the mirror. Her small chest is covered in purple bruising from the heavy door's abrupt slam into her. The lock on the door had slammed into her back, and as she twists she can see blood streaming from the hole. Her head has a small trickle of blood welling up, dripping down her cheek. Her legs aren't too bad, but they do have a little bruising.

Jazzy carefully presses a washcloth against the bloody injuries, and hopes that the bruises go away soon. She sits still for a long time, waiting, waiting, waiting for the cloth to absorb most of the blood. It finally does, and she manages to redress herself. She curls up on her bed, pressing her head into the cool white pillow, letting her eyes drift closed again as she thinks.

The butterflies fill her stomach with nervous flitterings as she feels the card jabbing into her hip, crumbling. She tries not to think about it, but she can't throw away a report card. Even Mom and Dad know to look at those. She wonders where they are. She hopes they don't come back for a long time. Dread deepens as she rolls over carefully and pulls out the card. She gulps and a few tears struggle to reach the surface. She pushes the tears away from each other-tears are only bad if enough of them come together. The card says that she made As in every subject except history. She made a B+ for history. She shivers and thinks about the punishments she might get. She can't stop shaking as she panics, descending into a black-shadowed realm filled with nightmares. She knows that she won't be physically hurt. She may be locked in her room, Mom and Dad's favorite punishment. If they get locked in some place, they aren't interfering. No food is one way. Or maybe they'll do something to Danny. They might think he distracted her. She hopes not.

After a few minutes of lying there, terrified of consequences, she gets up and limps to the kitchen where she finds the remainder of the apples, too rotten to consume. She sighs and sneaks to the lab downstairs, hoping for food down there. There's a small box of fudge beside an experiment, lid knocked askew. She grabs a small piece, hoping it won't be noticed. She stumbles back up to her room and grabs _The Magician's Nephew_ with a plan in mind.

She walks down the hall a short ways and stops outside Danny's room, where he has once again enclosed himself. She settles against it quietly and says, "Little brother? I've got something for you."

No answer at first. It isn't very surprising, though.

A small voice finally answers her. "What is it?" Danny whispers through the door.

She breaks the fudge in half and rolls both pieces into small balls. She places one on her palm and slides it through the door. "Fudge, Danny. I got it from the lab." The piece of candy disappears from her hand and she lets out a small smile. "Do you want me to read to you?" She asks. No answer. She waits longer, but after long enough waiting, she decides to begin.

She starts softly.

 _Chapter One: The Wrong Door_

 _This is a story about something that happened long ago when your grandfather was a child. It is a very important story because it shows how all the comings and goings between our own world and the land of Narnia first began._

Danny never objects, just listens, or so she assumes.

…

That evening, Jazzy's voice is horse, but she feels less nervous, at least until she hears a familiar, dreaded sound downstairs. The door opens and slams shut. Heavy steps pound through the house and angry yelling fills it with echoes of fury. Dad is in a bad mood, but Mom is the one who cares about grades, so right now it's most important that Mom feels okay. She doesn't want to go downstairs, into a war zone. She hopes everything still looks okay to them.

Finally, Dad bellows up the stairs, "Jasmine, get down here and show your mother your report card. The calendar says it came in today."

Jazzy jerks to her feet like a marionette, guided by the strings her father's commands manipulate. She stumbles down the stairs again, slowly, joints aching from the door's slam and from being still so long. Her breaths come in sharp, shallow gasps, unable to prevent herself from mild hyperventilation. Her brain knows punishment won't be harsh for her, but her body seems to disobey her brain and shakes with the memories of punishments that were used on Danny, or punishments she's dreamed of.

She arrives at the bottom of the stairs, tucks her hands into her pockets, and struggles to follow the rules. Don't stand out. She tries to blend in with the floor and wall so she never gets seen again. It takes practice, and it doesn't work when your parents are specifically looking for you. Her mind draws up all the excuses she can imagine. Anything that means she won't get punished.

She comes to a halt about ten feet from her parents. A safe distance. She can't get hit, though they could easily throw something. She might have space to dodge at this distance, though.

"Hi, Dad and Mom," she mumbles, struggling to follow their every mood. She doesn't want them to hit her.

"Where is your card, Jasmine?" A second. "You didn't clean the countertops, young lady." Maddie's words are easy to identify as potentially threatening. Maddie's stance is one, not of worry, but of anger, tense, prickly anger that bristles around them with s tension that tightens Jazzy's throat with anxiety.

Slowly, cautiously, obediently, Jazzy dips her hand into her pocket and pulls out the report card. Her stomach begins to churn and she shakes all over again. Maddie's hand clamps around the card and snatches it from Jazzy's grasp. She trembles even more as her mother glances at the paper and says, "You should take better care of paper, Jasmine. If you tear this, I don't want to have to go to school to get a new one." The paper makes crumbly sounds as she twists it open. "What's this? A B in history?" Her mother looks up, pinning Jazzy to the spot with a steely gaze.

Jazzy wants to cry. She mustn't cry, though.

"Why aren't you making As, Jasmine? You're our daughter. You shouldn't make anything less than straight As. We raised you better than this, and now you go and disappoint us." Maddie's tone is angry. The words ring inside Jazzy's head, and she fights to come up with a reason. "Has Daniel been distracting you?"

She manages to shake her head.

"Then why are you shaming us with such low grades?"

Jazzy flinches violently, but knows she has to answer. She says the only thing she can say. "It's m-my fault, Mom. I didn't study hard enough. I'm sorry." Her breath is coming in gasps between words and her teeth won't stop chattering.

"So it is your fault. Why?"

"B-b-because I was doing other stuff. I w-was trying to r-r-read."

"That's your punishment, then, Jasmine. No reading, and no food until tomorrow. Come." Jazzy doesn't need the glare that accompanies the command to obey. She follows her mother into the bathroom, where her mother locks the door and leaves her.

 **This chapter is finished, and the entire story has one chapter left to update. How do you like this chapter? The entire story? The final chapter will be up by Sunday if all goes well. Remember to review! I'm afraid this one didn't turn out well. It was hard to get into writing mode.**

 **-MiaulinK**


	5. Reconciliation

**I own nothing!**

" _That's your punishment, then, Jasmine. No reading, and no food until tomorrow. Come." Jazzy doesn't need the glare that accompanies the command to obey. She follows her mother into the bathroom, where her mother locks the door and leaves her._

Chapter 5: Reconciliation

Jazzy sighs silently, worried. She wishes that she could have her school books, but doesn't dare ask. At least she was closed in the bathroom, she reflects. She has plenty of water to drink this way. She might get hungry, but at least she'll be alive. She sinks to her knees, sliding down the wall. It's been a day with a late supper, and she hasn't eaten since the fudge, which doesn't really count. That means she didn't eat since the meal with her teacher. Her stomach insistently growls loudly.

She closes her eyes, props her head against her knees, and ignores the ache in her body. She, like Danny, knows that being still makes them feel less hungry. They're good at being so still they almost disappear into the wall. She sighs, and tries to fall asleep. She can't, so she keeps thinking, wondering what to do. She needs to know.

Her brother hates her.

Her parents never see them.

Her favorite teacher is moving away.

The tightness in her chest can only increase, and she lets silent tears trickle down her face. She wishes she could hide all her emotions, but she can't-not as much as she wishes she could. She knows she's a failure as a daughter, to be so disloyal to her parents, and to be unable to make the grades they need her to make, but she can't. She can't!

She knows that her teachers expect great things of her, and she knows that her parents will punish her if she doesn't fulfil her potential. The weight of their expectations pushes her

d

o

w

n

.

Sometimes she feels almost paralyzed by them, like now. A leaden, dull feeling that makes her want to scream. She doesn't, though. She knows better. All she has to do is hang on.

Little sounds surround her, like the ripple of water in the toilet, and the creaking of the stairs as her parents ascend. If you close your eyes you can hear so much more. She gets up and takes a little sip of water. She wishes that the water didn't leave her stomach just as empty-feeling as it was before. Her stomach gurgles unhappily, and she sits back down.

At some point she spaces out. She no longer perceives the ceiling or walls. She has successfully "tuned out" the hunger pangs. She relaxes against the cabinets and feels exhaustion creeping in. Fuzzy spots dart around her vision, and she knows that if she gets up she'll faint. She fell down the stairs once because she fainted. She recloses her eyes.

She hears a faint, barely-there rustle from under the door and awakens with a start. She has no idea how long she's been asleep, but probably not long. She half-wonders whether it's Mom, come to let her out early for some task. She rises to her feet gently, careful to avoid collapse. Finally, she hears a whisper through the door.

"Jazzy?" It's Danny. His voice is a welcome sound.

But… "What are you doing here, Danny? You shouldn't be here!" She warns him sharply. She might be happy that he's said something to her, but what if he's found out?

"I got you something. Mama got some food with Daddy, and they told me I could eat after they finished. They went to bed an' I got us food. Here." A crumbly sound comes from under the door and a roll comes through. She snatches it up.

"Thanks. What'd they get?"

"A bunch of stuff. We won't be hungry for a while. I stole some an' put it under my bed so they can't find it. They never look there. Want yogurt?" His tone is cheerful.

"Sure." The idea of yogurt makes her mouth water.

She hears feet racing away, and less than a minute later, a spoon comes under the door. Then, she can see Danny's fingers pushing a little cup of yogurt.

"I can't get it in." He sounds frustrated.

Jazzy thinks for a moment before saying, "Have you got a baggie?"

"Yes."

"Pour the yogurt in that, close the bag, and push the bag under the door."

In another minute, a plastic bag slides under the door. She uses the spoon to scoop yogurt off the sides of the bag. It tastes really good, and she wants more. Without her having to ask, Danny pushes more food under the door. A few more rolls are eaten before they resume conversation, starvation having made food the priority.

"Thanks, Danny. I thought you didn't like me anymore." Jazzy is curious.

"You took me to Miss Walker's house, an' apologized, an' Mama punished you. I don't hate you. Please don't leave me again. You were wrong about Mama an' Daddy. They don't like me. You do."

"I'll never leave you again unless I have to, or Mom and Dad make me, or you want me to. I promise."

A pickle wrapped in a washcloth comes through the door's crack and Jazzy manages to nibble it a little. She is full. Her stomach is content.

"Thanks! Want some M&Ms?"

"No thank you. I'm full." Jazzy pats her stomach. She had been hungry, but she can't make room even for candy.

"Okay!"

"You need to leave before Mom and Dad come down." She warns him.

"When will Mama let you out?" Danny sounds worried at the suggestion instantly.

"She said tomorrow." Abruptly, a creaking sound comes from the stairs. "Danny, go. Now. They're coming."

"If Mama or Daddy don't let you out, I'll give you more food tomorrow. Good night!" She can hear his footsteps racing away as he hides from their parents. She recognized something she'd never heard in his voice before about his parents. A hint of fear. It sends a sour feeling into her heart.

She throws all the wrappers into the trashcan just in case. She doesn't want Mom or Dad to punish her , they don't come to the door, nor do they catch Danny. Instead, she realizes that it is just Jack, probably coming for a snack. She breaths a minute sigh of relief.

Everything is going to be fine.

 **It is finished. Again, I took way too long updating. This story just hasn't kept my attention the way Danny POV stories do. Please review the chapter. Also, I have another story, Meeting of the Ways, which is basically in this universe before Love Me, Love Me Not. It's when he meets Sam and Tucker for the first time. Sequels may come into existence, but they will be what I call "loose sequels". That means they don't necessarily exist only within the universe of LMLMN and GMTA.**

 **If one is an actual sequel, I will title it as such, though it will be a stand-alone story, and I will note it in the summary. I have an idea, but I doubt it will be used soon. Right now I'm focusing on my crossovers and on the possibility of a "graphic novel" version of Silent Witness. Thanks for reading my story, and if you want to suggest an idea, by all means do so. Even a scene for the potential semi-sequel, which will involve Danny developing an eating disorder. There are also several regular ideas which will almost certainly end up being published, stories that are one-shots. If one is a genuine sequel, I will also make a note of it in an additional and temporary AN chapter.**

 **-MiaulinK**


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